


Your lies, my truths

by crystalline_cold



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Conspiracy, Crying, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Men Crying, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 08:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20690585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalline_cold/pseuds/crystalline_cold
Summary: England sends someone to Nassau, who has to make sure that Captain Flint would lose everything. His crew, the Walrus and even his home. Because it would be a lot easier to reclaim the island, with Flint out of the picture. Already pretty shaken about the death of Miranda, Flint has to deal with this new threat and believes himself to be utterly alone. (set after season 2)





	1. Chapter 1

Although Flint was tired, he knew that he couldn't rest or slow down. The moment he would do that, thoughts and images would flood his mind and shatter him, tear him to pieces. As long as he could keep himself busy, he would do that, desperately so. Because exhaustion was better than being ripped to shreds by anger and grief. He knew it would cripple him beyond belief, if he'd give in to sadness.

So, he came up with a new mission to keep the crew and himself busy. Since the gold was gone and their plan with Abigail had ended in a disaster...

They were now punishing those who dared to hang pirates. It was good...at least the anger went somewhere...but the black despair remained at his heels, chasing him. The only thing he could do about that, was to stay in motion, so it wouldn't catch up with him and swallow him whole.

Right now, they were back in Nassau to get new supplies and Flint hated every second of it.

Usually, he would leave the beach, his crew and 'Flint' behind and visit Miranda. But now...

He was stuck here, in a cramped little hut on the beach, surrounded by his crew. There was simply no way to get rid of 'Flint'. But was that really what he wanted? It dawned on him that the minute he would relax and become James, grief would grab him and rip him apart. And he couldn't risk that, not while he was among his crew. So 'Flint' stayed.

He only noticed that he'd been pacing around in this small hut for quite a while now, when he heard men shouting at each other in the streets close by.

He didn't pay much attention at first, because that was the sort of thing that happened all the time in Nassau, but then he identified one voice as Billy's.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Something wasn't quite right. It was the crew...their behaviour was strange...well, stranger than usual. It was a collective thing. Not just four or five of them being in a bad mood or so. No. It was bigger. Silver saw them whispering to each other, saw them exchanging looks. Some seemed agitated and some concerned but whatever it was, none of them talked to him about it. In fact, every time Silver came close to some of the crew members sitting together on the beach or in their tents, they'd fall silent. It hurt and to be fair it made him pretty paranoid. What could affect the crew like this? Why wouldn't they talk it over with their quartermaster?

Everything had been normal this morning. They'd arrived at Nassau and he had told the crew that they were free to do whatever they wanted but that they had to come back to help get the fresh supplies on board in the late afternoon. There had been no objection or grumbling about it. At least as far as Silver remembered. So this couldn't be the reason. And the longer he observed the men, the more he realised that they weren't unhappy about work or setting sail so soon again. They were confused and uncertain about something.

And whatever it was, he would find out sooner or later. Even if they didn't talk to him, he would find a way to get to the bottom of this. Maybe Billy knew something.

Speaking of Billy...wasn't that him over there? And in a heated argument, too? That did not happen very often. Silver moved closer in an attempt to determine what the fight was about, but not too close though, he didn't want them to stop talking like the others did today when they saw him.

"And you believe him? A stranger? You've known Flint for a long time now and you met this man...what?...four hours ago? How can you believe him? He could come up with just about anything. Don't you see that he's using you to hurt Flint's reputation? Spreading lies to make the whole crew doubt him? But who sailed under Flint? Was it you or that man? You know Flint! He doesn't!" Billy poked a finger at the man's chest in front of him, to emphasize his point.

Silver noticed that the man was Henry, a crew member of the Walrus. Henry wasn't so easily swayed by Billy's words. He seemed to be rather sure that his way of seeing the whole thing was the right one.

"But he said he knows him."

Billy moaned. "Jeez! Don't you think he could've lied about that too?"

Only now, did Silver see that almost everyone standing in the near vicinity had gathered around them. And not just the men from the Walrus, others too. Billy and Henry had attracted quite the crowd. Billy must've realised it as well, because he lowered his voice a bit as he said: "I only want from you, that you stop spreading that nonsense. You don't have any proof that it's true."

"But what if it's true...what he says about Flint? I don't want to sail under a fucking..."

"A fucking 'what'?", growled a deep voice.

Everybody's eyes darted behind Billy, where Flint seemed to have materialized out of nowhere.

Well, that situation had escalated pretty fast and Silver was curious how it would proceed. Something inside of him was screaming at him though, that he should do something, intervene, steer Flint away from it. After all, Silver was the quartermaster. But what could he do or say? He didn't have the faintest idea what this was about. So he remained silent and watched.

At first it seemed like Henry was too afraid to say what he had intended to and Silver was about to breathe a sigh of relief, because seriously, finishing that sentence right now would have been suicide.

Ah, but the moment Silver thought everything would turn out all right, it took a turn for the worse.

Either this man was incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. But whatever it was, it made him finish the sentence. He even shouted it, so that everybody could hear.

"A fucking sodomite!"

The captain stared at Henry, seemingly emotionless. Silver noticed though, that one of Flint's eyes was slightly twitching. And he saw how he took out a pistol, shot Henry in the head, turned around and walked back to his hut.

The crowd was silent. No one moved. They stared at the dead man in front of them for quite a while. Until someone finally broke the spell in walking silently away. After that, the crowd dissolved quickly, leaving only a shocked Billy behind, standing next to a corpse.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Sodomite!

The word was echoing inside his head as he walked back to his hut. As if in trance, he staggered up the few wooden steps and pushed the door open.

Sodomite!

How?

How did that word find him again? How did it find its way to Nassau and to him? How? He wasn't McGraw anymore! No one knew him on this island. The people here only knew Flint and Flint had never done anything like that... Flint wasn't ...

The pistol slid out of his hand and landed on the floor with a thud. He felt shaky and nauseous.

What if it all would repeat itself?

What if they would throw him off the island because they'd found out about his past?

But...they couldn't have...right?

Just because one man decided to use this word to insult him...that didn't mean that he knew. But how else would he come up with such a word? Such a specific word! And in combination with that word, he had said that he wouldn't want to sail under him...

He must've known! Oh my god, he must've known!

The second Flint came to that conclusion, a wave of nausea hit him again and force him to his knees. The room started to spin and he let himself fall forward onto his hands for support, to feel the solid ground underneath his palms. But it was no use, the room was still moving. Flint knew that soon he would either lose consciousness or throw up. He tried to will it all away by taking deep breaths and by not thinking about...

Who else knew?!

Who else knew?!

Paranoia engulfed him. It tore at every single nerve inside of him at once, until it became too much to bear.


	2. Chapter 2

Flint shouldn't have shot Henry. He shouldn't have shot him. It had been wrong. Entirely uncontrolled. Overreacting. Plain stupid! They would vote Flint off, surely. Why wouldn't they? A captain who shoots a man of his crew, just because he had insulted him? That's not a reason to shoot someone. He could've punched him. Yes. That would have been an appropriate reaction. But no! He had to shoot him point-blank. How on earth was Silver supposed to fix that?

"Did you see what Flint just did?" Billy asked, when he saw Silver approach him. "I can't believe it. That man is insane! How can he shoot a member of his own crew, simply because the man was rude to him? What will happen next? He shoots you because he thinks you looked at him in a funny way?"

Billy ran a hand over his face and noticed that there was blood on it. Henrys blood. He groaned. "You know, I was defending Flint...just seconds before he shot Henry. But why do I even bother?!"

"Yeah, about that...what was it all about? I mean your fight with Henry. The whole crew has been kind of strange this afternoon. What's going on?"

Billy sighed and started to explain. "Well, there is some guy in the tavern. He claims to know Flint, says that they served together in the Navy. He's a talker that one, I tell you that. He readily tells everyone the story about Flint's scandalous past in London and why he was thrown out of the Navy and apparently even out of London. And unfortunately, more than half of the crew believes him. Which is a huge problem. If this continues, and if all of the men decide to believe those stories, Flint won't have a crew anymore...that is, if shooting Henry hasn't done the trick yet."

"And what's the scandalous thing about Flint's past?" Silver asked and was quite surprised about Billy's reaction. All of a sudden he seemed nervous and at a loss for words. "Ah, you know...I haven't heard the whole story yet. Just snippets and...ah...then Henry approached me, and besides...it's all lies anyway."

Silver frowned. What a strange reaction. Of course Billy knew more than just snippets, it was painfully obvious. Still, he knew he wouldn't get anymore out of him, so he decided to drop the subject.

"Well, I think I have to pay that stranger a visit myself. Hear the stories first hand." Silver smiled at Billy, who relaxed visibly, glad that he wouldn't have to tell him the whole story. But then Billy's gaze fell upon the corpse in front of him and he tensed again.

"You have to do something about this, Silver. Flint can't just kill everyone on the crew who insults or verbally confronts him. That's not how it works."

"I know. I'll go and talk to him right away."

Silver sighed inwardly. What was he supposed to say to Flint? 'Don't do this again?' Yeah, right. As if Flint would listen to him.

In moments like this, he hated to be quartermaster.

As Silver started to walk towards the Captain's hut, he had to admit that he felt slightly afraid. Ever since the disaster in Charlestown, Flint had been different, moodier and more violent. He seemed like a ticking time bomb and Silver sure as hell didn't want to be the one to set it off, or even be in the near vicinity when somebody else made that mistake.

There he was, in front of the door and couldn't decide what to do next. Should he knock and ask for permission to enter, or should he rather appear confident and resolute and barge in unannounced?

Suddenly, Silver heard a strange noise from inside the hut and it bewildered him immensely. Well, he had heard it countless times coming from other people, but never from Captain Flint.

Silver quickly pushed the door open and hurried inside. And there, in the middle of the room was Flint on hands and knees, throwing up.

Silver couldn't move, although he knew that he was supposed to do something, anything...get him a bucket, maybe some water, a cloth, say something, turn away to give the man some privacy...but he couldn't. Silver stood there and stared. Flint seemed so weak in this moment, so vulnerable, so...human, so very unlike the cold-hearted, calculating monster that they got to see day in, day out.

The retching stopped and Silver still couldn't move. What was wrong with him?!

With a low groan, Flint sat down and pushed himself backwards to the nearest wall and leaned against it. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, looked at Silver, moaned and said hoarsely: "Don't you ever knock?"

What a relief! He had expected something like 'what are you doing?', or 'why are you staring at me?', and honestly, he wouldn't have had the faintest idea how to answer those questions.

"Apparently not,...no", Silver said slowly and frowned when he noticed how pale Flint was. Sweat was dripping from his brows and he was shaking as well. "Should I get Howell?"

"Nah, it's nothing. It'll pass."

Silver walked towards the desk. He poured some water into a cup, went over to the captain and handed it to him.

Flint took it with a slight nod. His hands were shaking so much that water spilled onto his shirt as he raised the cup to his lips. He drank up and tried to put the empty cup next to him on the floor but it toppled over because his hands were still shaking violently.

"Yeah, that doesn't look like nothing. Sure I shouldn't get Howell?" Silver tried again.

"I said it'll pass", came the growled reply, accompanied by a look that made Silver feel the need to flee from this place immediately. Why did that look still work on him? And besides, he was standing, while the captain was sitting on the floor, shaking and miserable, and yet...Flint managed to stare him down. This was...

"What are you doing here?"

The question interrupted Silver's train of thought and he wasn't quite sure how to answer it. He had a hard time recalling why he came here in the first place. What was he doing here, indeed?

"Uhm.." Oh, yes. He remembered. He was here because of what the captain had done to Henry. Silver took a deep breath. Was he afraid? Maybe. To some extent. A little bit...

"I'm here to tell you that you did a very stupid thing."

Flint frowned but said nothing, so Silver continued. "And that thing will cost you your captaincy, because frankly, I have no clue how to turn this around. You shot Henry, point blank, in front of the whole crew and simply because he insulted you. That is no reason to shoot someone. You could have punched him instead. Anything would have been better than killing him. I mean come on. What will be next? You kill someone just because that person looked at you in a weird way? You can understand, that the crew will not feel safe after witnessing this. They are probably voting for a new captain as we speak."

"Why was he so angry?"

"Beg your pardon?"

Flint rolled his eyes and explained impatiently: "Henry. He was arguing with Billy. What was it about?"

"Well, that was actually the second thing I wanted to talk to you about, but...aren't you concerned that you'll probably lose your crew?"

Flint took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Through gritted teeth he said slowly: "Just tell me."

All of a sudden Silver began to sweat a bit more but he told himself that it was simply getting hotter inside the hut. He wasn't nervous. No way.

"Alright. There is a stranger in the tavern, telling stories about you. He claims to know you. Apparently you have served together in the Navy. However, the stories he tells are upsetting the men. Their behaviour was pretty weird this afternoon. No one wants to talk to me about the content of those stories, not even Billy. Anyway, the fight between Henry and Billy was about that. Henry feared that what the stranger in the tavern told him was true and Billy told him that it wasn't. That's all I know."

Flint's reaction to his explanation confused him. Silver didn't know that it was possible for Flint to look even more miserable than he had after throwing up. But here he was, white as a sheet, slumped shoulders and an expression on his face that could only be described as desperation.

What the fuck was going on?

There was no response, no instruction, not even a nod. Flint turned his head a bit so that he wasn't looking at Silver anymore and continued staring at the wall instead. That was all that happened.

"Uhm...well...My plan is to visit the tavern, in order to find out who this stranger is and to hear what he has to say about you. But whatever it was that he has told your crew, it had a huge impact on them. And together with your rash act minutes ago, I suspect your days as captain are numbered. However, I'll try my best to fix it. You should stay here until I return from the tavern. I can't tell what the men would do to you if they saw you on the street."

There was no reaction at all, so Silver said a bit louder: "Captain?!"

Flint turned his head slowly towards him and stared at him with a glazy look. Silver couldn't tell if the captain was actually focusing on him or if he was still lost in his own thoughts.

"Did you hear what I said to you?" Nothing happened. And that alien stare started to make Silver even more nervous. So he reached out with one hand and slightly squeezed Flint's shoulder. "Flint?"

Finally this had an effect. The captain closed his eyes, lowered his head and then he noticed Silver's hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing?" He growled. And even though Silver feared for the safety of his hand, he was glad that Flint seemed to be back. He let go of the captain's shoulder and said: "Sorry, but you weren't responsive. What's going on with you? And don't say 'nothing', because I have never seen you like this."

Flint didn't answer the question. Instead he got up and glared at him defiantly. "I'm fine. Now go and find out who that fucking storyteller is."

It was probably unwise to point out to the captain, that he was still shaking all over. And having to lean heavily against the wall for support was another sign of not being fine. But what the heck, if Flint wanted to act like a stubborn idiot...Silver shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "All right."


	3. Chapter 3

Finally, he was alone again. Silver had left the hut in order to find out more about this stranger sitting in the tavern, spreading lies and deceit. Because they had to be lies, they simply had to be! Flint wouldn't be able to survive it, if the whole island knew about London, about Thomas...no, he wouldn't survive it. So they had to be lies. Please! It wasn't so much for his sake, it would hurt him of course, if the whole island would call him names and shun him. It would destroy everything he had tried to build for so long, it would kill Flint. But that was not the worst, that was not what would destroy him. What would though, was if the people in Nassau would gossip about Thomas, badmouthing him, calling him names... A man they knew nothing about, a man so beautiful, so...

Flint feared that his legs would give out from under him any second, so he carefully made his way to the bed and sat down. He focused on his breathing and pushed all the maddening thoughts away as best as he could. Panic was entirely futile right now. He didn't know the exact content of the stories this stranger was spreading yet. He couldn't lose his mind over what ifs. And besides, the moment Silver returned, his mind had to be calm. Whatever information Silver would bring back from the tavern, it required him to come up with a plan and to act swiftly.

Well, first he had to clean up the mess he had made on the floor. It had to be done anyway and maybe it would help him to quiet his mind a bit. Because simply sitting on the bed and waiting for Silver to return wasn't an option. Although Flint still felt unsteady on his feet, he forced himself to get on with the task and ignored his weak legs and shaky hands.

He had hoped that by the time he had finished cleaning, Silver would be back, but there was no sign of him. Flint sat back on the bed, but got up again seconds later. He drank some water, then some rum and began to pace the room.

Why wasn't Silver back yet?

What took him so long?

Suddenly, someone entered the hut and Flint turned around to see who it was.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oooohhh...what a mess this whole situation was!

Silver stood in the middle of the hut and did what he had been doing while walking back from the tavern; racking his brains.

What the hell was he supposed to say?

Or the better question was, how was he supposed to say it? Because of course it was clear to him, that he had to tell Flint what he had found out in the tavern, ...but how?!

Silver noticed that the vomit on the floor was gone and that Flint looked a bit better. He was standing behind the desk and his hands were only slightly shaking when he filled two cups with rum. Flint sat down on the chair behind the desk and gestured with a slight nod towards the other chair in front of the desk, that Silver should do the same. Flint placed the second cup in front of him and said: "Start talking."

And so Silver did.

And the only thing that happened after he was done with it, was that Flint left the hut. He didn't say a word but the force with which he slammed the door on his way out, told Silver that he had to get up and follow him as quickly as he could. Whatever Flint was about to do, it would most likely end in mayhem. Silver had to at least try to keep him somewhat under control.

But of course Flint was much too fast for Silver to follow. He cursed under his breath while hurrying through the streets of Nassau. It wasn't that hard to guess where Flint would've disappeared to, and so Silver headed for the tavern. He knew that he was right about that, when he stood in front of the tavern and heard no sound at all. Every single guest in there was as quiet as a mouse and that could only mean that Flint was in there, doing god knows what and scaring everyone to death in the process.

So upon entering, Silver wasn't surprised to find Flint towering over the poor storyteller, who was lying on the ground, blood gushing out of his broken nose. The man on the floor, who had only minutes ago told Silver that his name was Robert Halford and that he and Flint had served together in the Navy, was not looking particularly fond of meeting his old friend again. But then again, someone who's telling the whole island stories like that, couldn't have been Flint's friend.

Come to think of it, why was that guy even here, when it was obvious that he didn't like Flint.

Was it some kind of revenge?

Silver couldn't ponder about that for long, because Flint hauled Robert to his feet and dragged him out into the street and down to the beach. And again, Silver tried to follow as fast as he could. They were talking to each other, but were too far away for Silver to understand what it was about. Of course 'talking' wasn't really the best word to describe what was happening a few paces in front of him. Flint was snarling at Robert and the other man responded just as angry, though it lacked a certain conviction.

Silver wasn't surprised that they were being followed by several men and women, some from the tavern, some had joined them on the street and some were even coming from the opposite direction. Word must've gone out very quickly that Captain Flint was up to something. Silver spotted Billy and a considerable number of the Walrus' crew as well.

Oh great! He hoped that Flint was aware that his crew and the whole island was watching him do...whatever the fuck this was.

Flint punched Robert in the stomach, which caused him to drop to his knees. He bend over, coughing and gasping for air.

Flint looked at the crowd and raised his voice: "England fears us, more than ever. In fact, she is so afraid of us that she won't dare face us in open battle. She rather sends cowards like him to spread lies, so that we would turn against each other."

Flint stood behind the kneeling Robert, grabbed him by his hair, yanked him upright and pressed the blade of a small dagger against his throat. "Tell them why you're here."

Robert Halford's voice was shaky when he spoke. All the anger he had displayed a minute ago on his way down to the beach had dissolved. He seemed genuinely afraid now.

"I was sent by the British Navy. They gave me the order to undermine Captain Flint's authority. They believe that upon hearing about Flint's past, the people in Nassau and most importantly, the crew of the Walrus, would despise him, shun him and cast him out."

Someone, Silver couldn't see who it was, shouted: "So it's all true then, what you told us. Flint was really fucking this Lord Hamilton. He's a bloody sodomite!"

Silver wasn't sure if anyone else noticed it, but he saw it. He saw how Flint's grip on Robert Halford's hair tightened, how the tip of the dagger disappeared a few millimetres under Robert's skin.

"No", was Robert's response to the man in the crowd. It came out too high-pitched, too desperate, Silver thought, but when Robert continued, he had his voice somewhat under control again.

"The stories I told you are lies. My superiors made them up. They assumed that you wouldn't tolerate a sodomite as a captain."

"Bloody right they are!", said the nameless man again.

Silver noticed the slight twitch in Flint's eye and it felt like a déjà-vu . He had seen that already today. Yes, just seconds before Flint had killed Henry. Come to think of it, Silver had seen that particular eye-twitching many times in the past and it occurred to him, that it had always happened when Flint had been angry as hell and/or was about to kill someone.

Great!

"They invented stories about my past just so that I would lose my captaincy?" Flint asked.

"Yes. They said that without Flint on the island or on the Walrus, taking back Nassau would be mere child's play."

"Do you hear that?!" Flint raised his voice and looked sternly at the people around him. "Mere child's play?! They don't know what you can do! How fiercely you fight, how powerful each and every one of you is. They would've been surprised to find out that taking back this island would have been anything but child's play."

A murmur went through the crowd, several 'ayes' could be heard.

"England is afraid of Captain Flint? Good! Let them be afraid. In fact, let them be terrified! We will show them what Flint and his crew are capable of. Let us give them some new food for nightmares."

The crowd was now roaring and cheering. But still Flint continued: "Whatever they send our way; assassins, cowardly schemers or a man o' war. We will stand side by side and we'll show them, that taking Nassau is no child's play at all!"

Flint slit Robert's throat with one swift move and held him upright until the gush of blood that painted the sand red, finally subsided. Then he let go of Robert's hair and the man fell dead to the ground.

Silver could do nothing else but stare. It was downright scary how Flint had been able to make all his problems disappear. It was the second time today, that Flint had executed a man in cold blood, though this time the pirates around them were cheering. Once again, they were ready to follow him everywhere. Henry was forgotten or considered to have been a pawn in the scheme of Robert Halford. And the stories about Flint's past were all lies. Everything was back to normal. This was...

"Unbelievable."

Exactly. What?

Silver hadn't noticed that the crowd had dissolved and that Billy had appeared at his side. Billy was shaking his head, as he stared after Flint and said to Silver:

"He has done it again. Sometimes I am tempted to believe the stories about him being protected by dark magic. I mean, come on."

"Yeah", Silver mumbled absentmindedly. Suddenly he noticed that Flint had left the beach as well.

"Where did he go?", he looked at Billy, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Alright, I'll go find him and try to get an explanation or...or something. In the meantime, could you find out what the crew thinks about all of this?"

"Of course. That's an easy task. But yours...getting an explanation from Flint?", Billy laughed, "good luck with that."


	4. Chapter 4

He was back inside the hut. Surrounded by flimsy walls, but they were walls nonetheless and no one was able to see him in here. And that had to suffice for the moment. He had hurried back to the hut with a stern look on his face, so that anyone who would even begin to think about approaching him, would immediately reconsider. Because he had felt it, right after he'd slit Halford's throat, he had felt that something inside of him was slowly breaking...no, not breaking...shattering, into a thousand sharp pieces, and that those pieces would inevitably open up old wounds and possibly create new ones. And he couldn't allow anyone to see this happening. So here he was, inside the hut, away from prying eyes, save, alone...oh, yes...so very alone.

Flint mechanically walked over to his bed and sat down. He was alone.

He was utterly alone.

No one who knew him, truly knew him, was alive anymore.

And no one who knew Thomas, was alive anymore.

And the most horrible thing about it all was, that he started to forget Thomas's face. It became harder and harder for him to remember what he looked like. He could recall little details, like the colour of his eyes, the shape of his nose, his smile, his scent...but when he tried to assemble all of it and fill in the gaps...he couldn't do it anymore.

And now...he had been forced to deny him again.

Compelling Halford to inform the whole island that the stories he had been telling had all been lies, had been the right thing to do. For saving his captaincy, for saving his life...but it didn't change the fact that it felt wrong.

With every new situation in which he had to deny Thomas, deny his love for him, he could feel the memories slip away. And now, with Miranda gone, he had no one to share those memories with, to rekindle them and keep them from disappearing altogether.

And Miranda...this would happen to the memories he had of her as well, wouldn't it? Time would make him forget, even if he didn't want to.

He missed them. He missed them both...so much.

Flint knew that the black despair that had been at his heels, chasing him ever since Miranda had died, had now finally caught up with him. He didn't care if it would swallow him whole, if it would destroy him or not. He was tired of running and couldn't hold the tears back any longer. He buried his face in his hands and cried, silently.

Flint had abandoned himself to his grief so completely that he took no notice of the figure entering the hut.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Silver stumbled into the hut in a hurry and was relieved to see his captain sitting on the bed. It was good that Flint was in here and not back at the tavern or somewhere else where he could beat up or kill somebody.

Silver smiled and was about to say something, when he realised that something was amiss.

For a start, Flint didn't look at him, he hung his head and covered his face with his hands. And... were these sobs? Was Flint crying? Seriously?! What was going on today? This was definitely worse than seeing him throwing up. It made him feel even more helpless, if that was at all possible.

He really should try to stop his habit of barging in unannounced. It would save him from a lot of awkward moments like this.

Well, Flint must have noticed him entering the hut. With this blasted leg it was impossible to move quietly. So turning around and simply walking out of the room again was not an option. And to be honest, Silver found that he couldn't just leave like that, even if he would've been able to move as silent as a mouse. To see Flint like this, in so much pain and utterly alone with it...he couldn't walk away from that, he couldn't ignore it and pretend he didn't see anything.

This feeling was alien to Silver.

He cared.

He wasn't sure yet if he liked that feeling but it was evident that he couldn't act against it.

Silver took a deep breath, walked over to the bed and sat down next to Flint.

And again, with the fear of losing his hand, his arm or even his life, he put his arm around Flint's shoulder. The muscles in Flint's back tensed and Silver already feared the worst, but to his surprise, the captain drew a shaky breath and his shoulders slumped even more. He was sobbing harder as well now, but trying so desperately to muffle the sound with his hands as best as he could. And Silver understood. No one outside the hut could know that the notorious captain Flint, a man everyone feared so much, was crying like a little child.

Silver wondered what it was that made his captain cry like this.

Was it Mrs. Barlow's death?

Was it the thing about not wanting to play the role of the villain?

Or was it about Thomas Hamilton?

What if the stories Robert Halford had told them, were true after all?

What if Flint had really been in love with a man?

Of course Flint would have to force Halford to refer to the stories about him and Thomas as lies. It had been the only possible move. After all, with men like Henry on this island and on his crew, it would have been impossible for Flint to remain captain, if he had admitted to that. And Silver knew from experience that Flint was very good at bending the truth in order to stay captain.

So what was the truth then?

Silver didn't feel brave enough to ask Flint outright. Certainly not while he was in this unstable mood. Maybe one day, he would ask him about it, but not today.

Silver noticed that the sobbing had subsided and that the captain wasn't covering his face with his hands anymore.

Flint straightened his back a bit and said: "The concept of knocking on a door is entirely foreign to you, isn't it?"

Silver smiled and mused: "Yes, I tend to forget that, don't I?"

A smile ghosted over Flint's face and however brief, it was good to see that.

Silver realised that his arm was still around Flint's shoulders and now that the captain wasn't crying anymore, it felt a bit strange but at the same time he didn't seem to be able to convince his arm to move.

Flint took care of that problem, when he cleared his throat, got up and asked: "How soon can we set sail?" He walked over to the desk and poured himself some rum. Silver felt how a peculiar sadness began to fill out his entire body as Flint withdrew and he didn't understand it. Why would he feel that way?

"I don't know yet. I've sent Billy to see if the crew is still content with you as their captain."

"Go find him. I want to set sail as soon as possible."

In that moment it was clear to Silver, that neither would Flint talk about what had taken place on the beach, nor would he say a single word about his breakdown minutes ago.

And as if nothing had happened, Flint was cold and distant again. Silver hated it.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Billy entered.

Good, that saved him the trouble of finding him.

Billy looked at him questioningly, as if to ask him silently if it was alright to talk in front of Flint.

Silver nodded almost unnoticeable and Billy began: "You are still captain. The crew can't wait to set sail. They are all eager to make England fear them even more. So your speech had the desired effect, I suppose."

Flint didn't respond, so Silver said: "What about Henry? What do they think about Flint killing him?"

"Some of the men believe that he had been used by Halford, to spread the lies about Flint. Some say that he might have even received money for doing it. Either way, they are on Flint's side."

"Good", Flint said, "get the fresh supplies on board. We leave in two hours."

Billy nodded and left the hut. Silver stood up and made his way to the door, but before he could step outside, Flint grabbed his arm and held him back.

Silver turned his head to look at him and was surprised to see an entirely new expression on his captain's face.

It was a strange combination of fear and anger.

"What?" Silver asked but instead of an answer, Flint kept staring at him as if he couldn't find the words for whatever he had wanted to say to Silver.

Suddenly Silver noticed the desperation in Flint's eyes, and it began to dawn on him.

"Oh. You are afraid that I might tell anyone that you crie.." Silver couldn't finish the sentence, because Flint squeezed his arm so hard that he winced.

"Alright, alright, I get it. But how many times do I have to tell you; I am on your side. You can trust me. I won't tell anyone."

Flint nodded briefly and let go of Silver's arm, so that he could leave the hut. The door closed behind him and Silver took a deep breath.

What a day!

He really hoped that the coming days would be less stressful and...and less...confusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story!
> 
> The song "Suddenly" by Peter Heppner is very beautiful and to me the lyrics sound like thoughts John Silver might have when he's angry with Flint. :)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C8HmuZR6CNk
> 
> Suddenly - Peter Heppner
> 
> I don't give a fuck  
What you say  
I don't want to hear no lies  
From you today  
You wonder why you stand  
All alone  
But maybe you just reap  
What you've sown
> 
> And suddenly…  
You find you're in so deep  
The more you try in vain  
To free yourself again  
The deeper you will fall ...you will fall… won't you?
> 
> A thousand time I've lent  
A helping hand  
I'm not asking for a „thanks"  
Don't misunderstand  
But you're hiding from the truth  
If you think that you don't need a friend...aren't you?  
A long descending road, I've been told  
Lies out there in the cold  
For those alone
> 
> And suddenly …
> 
> All the things that you have done … one by one…  
Are just coming back to you … so they do…
> 
> And suddenly …

**Author's Note:**

> Black Sails and all the characters do not belong to me.  
U_U


End file.
